People We Should Never Meet
by Tempted Mischief
Summary: “And he’s your Uncle Moony.” Harry looked at Moony. He didn’t look much like an uncle, and he’d never seen a godfather, so he wasn’t sure if Padfoot was a good example of one or not. I'm back! More in depth summary to follow as story progresses.
1. How Tuesdays Began: Part A

Author's note at bottom (so if you don't want to read it, you can just ignore it).

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

A Birthday Wish (Working title)

Part One:

How Tuesdays Began

Unlike most other children his age, Harry Potter's favorite day was Tuesday, not Saturday. He had never been able to sleep in, his sleep usually rudely interrupted by the pounding of a meaty fist on his cupboard door, as his cousin Dudley slept peacefully above. At the tender age of five he had already learned how to fry eggs and bacon, and to carefully extract the toast from the toaster before it darkened beyond golden brown. Now at near seven Harry was an expert.

Harry was not allowed to watch Saturday morning cartoons, though he could hear them from where he stood carefully dusting the ceramic knick knacks that his Aunt Petunia "trusted" him with. He had broken one once, and a broken wrist where Uncle Vernon had grabbed it too roughly ripping the broken pieces from his hand, had taught him to never break one again.

But enough about Saturdays and the thoughts that went along with them, it was Tuesday, and as such a day to be looked forward to if you were a dark haired, too thin boy, with bright green eyes magnified by a pair of too big glasses, and a scar that was remarkably shaped similarly to a bolt of lightning. Tuesdays were the days that his two most favorite people showed up. They would be waiting outside at the end of the drive as he got home from school, as they weren't allowed to come any closer. Aunt Petunia was very adamant about this, and the rule had been set forth on that very first day that they had shown up on the doorstep. Harry could remember it quite clearly though it had been around two years ago.

He had just turned five that summer, which to Harry seemed to be a rather adult age as it was one step up from four, and meant that he would be attending school. He had often had day dreams of what it might be like, as he was locked away in his cupboard forgotten. Daydreams of becoming friends with the children he watched out the windows or through the slats in the fence that surrounded the garden in the back. There would be no fences at school to keep him from joining in play. And there hadn't been. But it seemed that Harry had his own personal fence, always following him, and stopping him from reaching what he wanted most. And that particular fence's name was Dudley.

It was due to this that his first day of school had been an utter disappointment. No one would come near him after the rumors and the bullying Dudley had already showed himself capable of. That and his oversized clothing and taped glasses caused the other children to snicker at them behind their hands. While Harry hadn't cried in a long time (At least not in public) he had felt the distinct need to many times throughout the day. For once he would have been happy to be hidden away, just so that he could let it all out without being made fun of for it.

When the end of school came and Aunt Petunia arrived to drive them home, Harry's feelings of crushed disappointment grew as she didn't ask how his day was, as all the other mother's or father's did. Instead ignoring him and Harry felt as if he didn't quite exist. He had, for some reason, thought that she would see what a great help he was around the house everyday, and would miss him (or at least his cleaning and cooking abilities) maybe even just a little bit. With his little boy heart and imagination, he had envisioned her getting down on her knees so that she could look into his eyes as she often did Dudley when saying something important, and telling him how much she had missed his presence, and could he please stay home instead of going to school, because she just couldn't manage without him.

It turned out he was wrong. The drive home was made with three people in the vehicle, but there was only conversation for two. Harry was beginning to finally see where his place was, and even though he had always felt as if he didn't quite belong in this family, he'd never felt quite so alone before. And it was at this point, unbeknownst to him that he began to accept it.

As soon as the car had parked in the drive, Harry extracted himself from the vehicle and made a beeline for the back yard, aunt petunia never complained about his spending extra time in the garden as long as he was working and not dawdling. And it was the one place Vernon and Dudley wouldn't go, for fear of trampling the plants that grew there, and thus facing passive aggressive hints all summer that she might have won the blue ribbon for best grown such and such if someone hadn't crushed it. Not that it mattered, the one year it had happened, Harry had still been blamed.

Feelings of disappointment had quickly turned to curiosity as he caught sight of the two strangers standing at the front door. They appeared to be having some sort of argument. The one with dark hair was gesturing with his hands in animated fashion, while the other, a brown haired fellow stared at him with something akin to fond exasperation.

"He's James' kid, of course he'll like you. Quit worrying padfoot."

Harry's ears perked up at the sound of his father's name. Usually when he heard it though, it was followed closely by drunk, car crash, and the man who had single handedly ruined and shortened his mother's life. This man said it with none of the hatred that his aunt uttered it with, rather more of an air of sad recollection.

"But I—" whatever he would have said was cut off with a screech, that made all who heard it jump.

"YOU! What are you doing here?! Dudley get back in the car!" Harry stared at the woman, this was the most infuriated he'd ever seen her, and he had seen her mad loads of times. He tried to make himself appear a bit smaller, hoping to be overlooked. But he knew it was inevitable that she would look his way and somehow pin the strangers appearance all on him, as if he had somehow pulled them out of thin air.

As Petunia moved forward, Harry took a step away, and it was this motion that got the two men's attention. After which they seemed to ignore the tall thin woman stalking towards them, something Harry thought really not smart.

"Harry?" the man, Padfoot?, said his voice soft but also had a raspy quality to it as if he had shouted too loud at a football match and was now suffering the effects a day later. Harry fidgted, unsure of what to do, his gaze moving from one man to the other, to his aunt who's face was an alarming shade of red and then back to the men.

He gave an unsure nod, and it seemed all the response he needed to give and the thin dark haired man was upon him, grabbing him up in a hug of a like that Harry could never remember having. Frankly, it both warmed him and frightened him. Was he being kidnapped? Would he mind if he was? The Dursley's probably wouldn't.

He could hear the conversation going on at the door.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Dumbledore sent—"

"I don't care who sent you, I want you gone."

"We have every right to see Harry-"

"You gave up that right when you left him here."

"It wasn't our choice!"

"Well neither was it ours!"

Their voices were raising and nosy neighbors were peeking over carefully trimmed shrubbery. Dudley was hanging on to the car door, his pudgy fingers fidgeting along the top , playing with the lock, pressing it down and then pulling it back up. Harry wasn't sure what was going on. All he knew was that his face was pressed up against slightly rough material, and something wet was dripping down on him.

He pulled back, his face tilting upwards and green eyes lingering on the tears that were streaking down the man's cheeks, before meeting the other's eyes. "Why are you crying?" he asked just around the same time that Petunia finally noticed that they were quickly becoming the center of attention, and not positive at that. "Are you hurt?"

The man just hugged him a little tighter, giving a shake of his head perhaps too emotional to speak past the lump in his throat, causing the child to squirm a bit, but to be honest he'd wanted a hug like this for well, a very long time. Whatever the stranger might have answered was interrupted by his aunt again as she reluctantly told them to come inside out of the prying eyes on Privet drive. She kept Dudley close behind her though she seemed to not care that Harry was being held 'hostage' by one.

All this was quite confusing to Harry, and continued to become more so as he was sat down on the sofa he wasn't usually allowed to sit in between the two strangers, who seemed to know Harry quite well. Petunia ushered Dudley upstairs to play with his toys promising a snack later, and waited until she heard him enter his room before turning on the three. Harry pressed back into the cushions, his gaze flickering upward to the men's faces.

The light colored hair man was looking about the room, gaze lingering on the large amount of family pictures, none of which included Harry. The other though seemed hard pressed to look away, as if afraid he were a dream and would disappear. There was also something there that was very much like how Petunia and Vernon looked at Dudley.

"Now." Petunia said decisively, "Why are you here? Here to take the boy away?" Green eyes snapped to his aunt at that, his body tensing and heart racing. What if the two men were relatives, maybe there had been a mistake and he'd been places with the wrong family. Or maybe.. his imagination ran away with him. While a pleasant way to pass the time in the dark, it often led him to the wrong conclusions, and started off nicely and then moved onto the worst. This made obvious by his next thought that maybe they were the men Petunia and Vernon told him about, that came and snatched bad little children during the night.. but it wasn't night though.

"Unfortunately we can't. Dumbledore said you would know why." The tired man said, regret in his eyes as he looked down at him.

Harry hated secrets just as much as he loved them, and he could tell that there was a very big secret going on and that it involved him. He fidgeted, scratching an itch on the back of his calf with a scuffed shoe.

He couldn't stop himself from asking the question plaguing his mind. He was after all only a little boy, and despite the Dursley's reprimands that he shouldn't speak unless spoken to, he sometimes slipped up.

"Who are you?" he asked. The air seemed to still and everyone's attention was on him for once.

"I'm, well" the man gave a soft barking laugh, and answered, "I'm your godfather.."

"Padfoot" Harry finished, remembering the name from earlier. Padfoot seemed to brighten and then a look of understanding appeared and he dimmed a little. Still he smiled again, and introduced the other.

"And he's your Uncle Moony."

Harry looked at Moony. He didn't look much like an uncle, and he'd never seen a godfather, so he wasn't sure if Padfoot was a good example of one or not.

"Moony and .. Padfoot." Harry said slowly, an odd look on his face, as he tried to keep from giggling at their names. After all he had just spent the day being laughed at, and knew how bad it felt to be laughed at for things outside a person's control.

Moony rolled his eyes in an exasperated way, but Harry could tell it wasn't mean. "It's actually Remus," he said with a hand to his chest, "and Sirius" a glance to the other man. Harry didn't really think those names were that much more normal then Moony and Padfoot, but he wouldn't comment on it.

"I'm Harry!" he introduced himself, shifting in his seat a bit, a wide smile appearing. The two grinned back.

"We know. We were there the day your Mum and Dad named you."

Padfoot, Harry liked that name better, seemed to be looking at something far away for a moment before he shook his head and returned his attention to Harry.

"Bo—Harry go to your room." Petunia said flustered, causing him to jump a bit. He'd almost forgotten she was there, so caught up in the fact that two people actually seemed to want to talk to him. He looked at her. She wanted him to go to his room? What room? The cupboard. His gaze strayed toward the door under the stairs and Petunia blanched.

"I mean.. go outside. It's a lovely day out. No need to spend it all in doors. These two.. men" she looked as if she was smelling something bad, "and I need to talk."

Harry reluctantly got off the couch wondering if he'd see the two again. He shot them worried glances over his shoulder as he walked toward the glass doors that led out to the backyard.

The time dragged slowly and Harry dared not touch any of the toys that littered the yard. Instead sitting quietly and inspecting the ants that crawled by. He followed them to their home and watched for a while as they marched in and out carrying what he assumed was little tidbits of food.

It seemed like hours, but had only been about ten minutes, when the two men came outside alone. Padfoot looked a bit red in the face, the way Uncle Vernon did when he got really mad, and Moony didn't look quite so tired anymore.

They sat with him for a while under the watchful eye of Petunia (who was making sure no freak stuff was going on near her house), and told him more in depth about his relation to him, and that they would be visited each and every Tuesday, before his Uncle Vernon came home, and that they would be waiting at the end of the drive. Padfoot would later tell him sheepishly that they weren't allowed any closer, though Harry never found out why Aunt Petunia had set such a rule. He supposed it was kind of like her no Harry sitting on the sofa rule.

But first they would have a secret code. Upon seeing them he would say, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," the first few times he had mispronounced the word solemnly, but it always made him giggle to say the phrase, and Moony patiently corrected him. In return the two would answer, "Mischief managed" If they did not answer right, he was to run.

Harry didn't understand why they didn't think he wouldn't recognize them, but figured it to be some sort of game, and he didn't mind having a secret code. After all he did love secrets. . . but even more now, he loved Tuesdays.

And as he rushed home as fast as his thin legs could carry him and caught sight of the two men waiting patiently at the end of the drive, he couldn't help but wish that every day was a Tuesday.

End of Part One

Second Part: How Tuesdays Began (Remus and Sirius version)

In this why Sirius isn't in Azkaban will be explained. I want to get the background information out of the way before getting into the really exciting parts that I'm looking forward to.

Author note with an introduction, and some answers to questions that might be posed:

I know most people will skip over this author's note, and that's alright, but I feel the need to write something.

It's been a long time since I've attempted to actually write anything long or in depth. In fact even longer since I've finished a story. Not good I know, but unlike these last times I have a rough outline of what the key events are. This story will be an accumulation of things I've been wanting to write for a while, a connecting of little snippets that have been floating about my head.

If you've never read my stories, then let me tell you a little bit about my style. I love AU stories, fics where Remus and Sirius raise Harry, though they will not be raising him in this story, and ones in which Harry is sent to an alternate world. This fic will be some of both. I'm hoping to keep it interesting. I'm afraid since it's been such a long time though my writing might be a bit off. If it seems choppy let me know. I also have realistic expectations of myself in that I know I'm not the best writer out there, but neither am I the worst. I merely want to get this story out because it's been bothering me all week to do so. However I would like input.

Some questions that might be posed. Why Tuesdays? I don't know honestly. When I was sitting at work, the sentence "Harry, unlike all other children, loved Tuesdays." Popped into my head and wouldn't go away.. it was what kind of prompted this story. Weird huh?

Why is Sirius free? Explained in next chapter. It will be from Remus and Sirius point of view.

Why can't they take custody of Harry? I assume that Dumbledore would have believed Harry to be the most safe and magically (heh ironic) protected at the Dursleys. Does that seem right? It's been a while since I've read through all the books. I don't want too many discrepancies…

Any more questions and I'd love to answer them.

Should I be more descriptive? I'm trying very hard to show you what's going on rather then telling you straight out. Am I being too descriptive? As much as I'm writing this for myself, I also like to know if other's enjoy it. So if you think it's worth continuing please let me know. Thank You!


	2. How Tuesdays Began: Part B

It was a Saturday when Remus Lupin's life fell to pieces, and every Saturday that shortly followed it became an anniversary of

First of all, sorry for this being late. Hopefully you will forgive me. Often work wears me out and then I get home and feel that my creativity had been zapped. Secondly this fic is slow moving to start. It will get a bit more action packed later. Right now I'm trying to set up the story. Tell you why Sirius is out, and Remus and Sirius' take on How the Tuesday meetings began. I'll have more of an author note at the bottom. Enjoy!

A Birthday Wish (working title)

How Tuesdays Began Part 2

It was a Saturday when Remus Lupin's life fell to pieces, and every Saturday that shortly followed it became an anniversary of sorts. It used to be daily. It had been one day since his best friend's had died, and then it had been weekly, monthly, and finally he no longer counted Saturday's but years. He had wallowed in his grief for a long time, his mind torturing him with guilty screams that he could have done something, anything to save them. That maybe if he'd invited them over, or stopped by more often. After leaving Hogwarts and James and Lily had married, he had worried that he was being intrusive. Of course they had been the best of mates at Hogwarts, but did that extend to the real world?

James after realizing, and most likely it was really Lily who was undeniably the more empathetic of the two, what he was doing, he had taken him aside and told him in no uncertain terms that he was always welcome, and how would his child learn the way of the Marauders if he was not there. The day Harry had been born was a most joyous one, and he could remember being afraid to hold the fragile little being. He had no choice though when Sirius placed him, a bit reluctantly, in his arms. Remus had held himself deathly still, afraid that he might have some odd clumsy fit and would somehow hurt the baby. Then Harry's eyes opened, and he could feel his heart stolen, and he and Moony agreed. Pack.

Pack was important, and any loss was devastating. Truly their deaths had broken his heart, but it was Sirius' betrayal that had almost broken his mind. For a long time his mind kept replaying what had happened in their sixth year. Had Sirius somehow unintentionally let the Potters' secret slip as he had with Remus' own that fateful year? Remus just couldn't believe that Sirius would betray them all in a cold calculative way. What had gone wrong?

This was the question that plagued Remus even after he had pulled himself out of his grief. It was hard to find a job, and even though Lily and James had left him a tidy sum of money in their will, he couldn't find it in himself to touch it. At one point he had considered leaving Great Britain all together. Maybe go somewhere else without any memories to haunt him. And he would have, if not for that fateful day in Diagon Alley.

He'd gone to pick up a few items in order to prepare for his departure. He'd had it all planned out. He would undergo his transformation, the full moon not far away, and afterwards he would gather his meager belongings together and find a place that was both peaceful and where his mind could rest. Remus had just been exiting Flourish and Blotts when a blur of red and black collided with him. Instinctually his hands grabbed hold of the child, keeping him from falling while balancing himself. "Give Scabbers back!" the child yelled after a pair of twins who had stopped some feet away, seeing if they were still being chased, because after all it wouldn't be half as fun if they were just ignored.

The red hair gave them away, but if it weren't for that, it was the woman who came walking up behind them with a no nonsense air about her that clinched it. She looked just as she had the last time he saw her, though perhaps a bit less sad and tired. Her children probably helped her keep her mind off the loss of her own brothers. Her hand was held tightly by a young child, and Remus couldn't help but think that Harry would be about the boy's age. The thought caused him more than a little pain. He swallowed and pushed the emotion aside to be brought out and nourished later in the loneliness of his flat.

For now he gave the woman a small smile and a greeting, "Hello Molly," the boy who had run into him was now stepping away and toward his younger brothers.

"Remus! Imagine meeting you here. How have you been? I'm dreadfully sorry about the twins. It seems like only Arthur can get them to truly mind," she used her free hand to brush her hair out of her eyes as she stepped closer, "not that he does very often." A stern look was given to the two identical boys who were giving her a look of pure innocence in return.

Remus' smile became a bit more genuine and he would have answered her, if not for Percy interrupting. "Mum!" there was a bit of whine to his voice, and Remus assumed that he often went to his mother.

"Fred, George, give your brother his rat back. And Percy. Didn't I tell you to leave him at home? Diagon Alley is no place for a pet." Percy flushed, his neck and ears turning a brick red. The twins just gave each other a look, a shrug of the shoulders, and a sigh before Fred.. or George, held the wriggling rat for Percy to take. It was then that Remus got a good look at it. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart felt as if it had stopped. Surely not. Peter was dead, blown up by Sirius. But why would Sirius track down Peter? Yet another question that had bothered him.

He cleared his throat but even as he spoke, his voice sounded weak and thin even to his own ears. "M-" he had to clear his throat again, "May I see, Scabbers was it?" He held his hand out. Percy gave the strange man a look that showed he would rather not hand the rat over, who by now was wriggling uncontrollably so that it was all Percy could do to hold on. Remus saw the little boy's hands slipping and he wasted no time in merely taking what he wanted.

"Give him back!" Percy yelled, even as Remus winced as the rat bit deeply into his hands. It was paltry compared to the pain he went through during his transformation. The blood ran down his hands, and the rat was squealing. Molly gasped, the twins and Ron were staring at Remus with wide eyes, and Percy showed exactly why he would later be sorted into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. He brought his leg back and forward, kicking the other man in the shin as hard as he could, just as Remus noticed the rat was, indeed, missing a toe.

The sharp pain in his shin and the force with which he was kicked, caused him to lurch forward, his hand going out to steady himself, and the other to drop the rat. For a breathless moment he saw his redemption flash away, but Remus had always been excellent in his aim and his magical ability.

With a series of swish and flicks that would have got top marks in Flitwick's class a stupefy was sent toward the tail that was disappearing in the crowd. The world stilled, and the background noise of Percy's yells, the twin's cheering him on, and Molly loudly asking what was wrong with him. And the rat was frozen. Remus hurried forward scooping up the small animal, a vicious grin on his lips as he forced himself to keep his grip light so as not to crush it.

"REMUS LUPIN." By now they had garnered quite a crowd, but it would seem that Molly really didn't care, as made evident by her bellow. Despite being in his twenties, Remus found himself wincing, and feeling much as Percy must have felt earlier. He straightened and turned, and forced himself not to duck his head to escape the glare that was pointed his way. Percy was crying, though trying not to show it, and the twins were glaring at him. Percy might have a big head, and a nark, but he was their big headed nark and the man had made him cry. Ron just hid behind his mother.

"_What _in the name of Merlin are you doing?" she asked, her voice brooking no argument.

"I think this would best be talked about somewhere private."

Molly gave him a skeptical look, before asking, "Private?" There was definitely no privacy to be found in Diagon Alley. Every cobblestone, and brick had eyes and ears it seemed.

"I was thinking along the lines of the Headmaster's office."

And so while it had been a Saturday that had shattered his life, it was also a Saturday that had pieced it slightly back together. True, the glue was barely keeping it together, but with Sirius' release it became stronger. And Tuesdays healed it more than even Saturday could.

After Peter's confession, and Sirius' subsequent release, they had quite a long meeting with Dumbledore. Sirius had been ready to gain custody of his godson straight out of Azkaban. Only his health had deterred him, and after he had gained some mobility their presence had been requested at Hogwarts.

Sirius still looked a bit drawn, and his eyes haunted, but he was determined to meet with Dumbledore, guessing correctly that it had something to do with his godson. As they entered the Headmaster's office, he was, as always, sitting behind his desk, Fawkes sitting upon his perch.

"Come in my boys, lemon drop?" Sirius and Remus both felt it odd that they felt just as if they were in school, called in for a chat, and questioning about a prank that couldn't necessarily be pinned upon them. Sirius who had always had a sweet tooth gladly accepted, while Remus who didn't care much for any sweet unless it was chocolate, declined.

As they settled in, Dumbledore's expression turned into one of a more serious nature, the twinkle dimmed, but present.

"Concerning Harry," he started and both Sirius and Remus leaned forward. "I'm afraid that I must request that you not remove him from his Aunt and Uncle's care." He knew these boys, had watched them from their first year until they had graduated, and even after when they had worked with him or joined his Order. And he knew that his statement and wishes would not be met without resistance from either. They did not disappoint.

Sirius tried to choke on his lemon drop in his anger, and it took a few tries to get it swallowed, but once it went down his voice, despite being a bit rough from his years in Azkaban, was well heard. "What the bloody hell do you mean I can't have custody of my own godson?! Lily and James would've wanted it, and those people.. James hated Vernon, and hated the way Lily's horse of a sister treated her. You think they treat Harry any better?! Who's idea was it to leave him there?!" the questions erupted from him, held back, his concern and disappointment warring against one another before melding into frustrated anger.

Remus' expression mirrored his friend's, and would have said something, but it would seem that Sirius had expressed himself well enough for the both of them. The headmaster sighed tiredly, his hand going to his beard, stroking the length of it. "Please, let me explain."

"Please do so," Remus said, his voice terse as Sirius sat back in his chair, palms smarting from where he had slammed them down upon the desk.

Albus placed his hands upon the table, fingers spread, and for once was unsure of which words to use. "Harry is better protected in that house than he would be anywhere else in the wizarding world. He survived because of Lily and it's Lily's blood that runs through her son and is shared with her sister. As long as they give him a room in the house, and he considers it to be his home, no witch or wizard with ill intent can pass the threshold. Keeping him in the wizarding world would only be asking for attention, and while much of it would be good, his followers remain, biding their time. I have hoped that Petunia would treat her nephew as her own, and thus far I have heard nothing of concern from Arabella."

Both Remus and Sirius could see the logic in Albus' decision, but at the same time logic had nothing to do with the heart. One couldn't keep it from yearning, and yearn they did to hold on to the only piece of their dear friends they had left.

"So you're saying we can't see him until he goes to Hogwarts? That's unacceptable!" Sirius said, stubborn Black nature rearing to the forefront.

The twinkle returned full force, and Remus knew then that what they would hear next would lessen the blow of not being able to have custody of Harry. And he was right, and although Saturdays had been the days in which he, Tuesdays would replace them instead. Now all that they had to do was coerce, or bully as Sirius saw it, Petunia into agreeing that they should be able to at least visit.

Which was the purpose that found them in front of a house that looked identical to every house next to it on a Monday afternoon.

"How can you tell that this is even the right house? They all look the same! Even if the death eaters did learn of Harry's location, I doubt they'd be able to find it!" Sirius complained, looking up and down the row of houses.

Remus rolled his eyes and pointed to a gold number. "That, dear Padfoot, is the number four, and as such means that we are at the right house." Sirius in return gave him a look which had the other hiding a smile behind his hand.

The animagus' expression soon turned worried. "What if he doesn't like me?" Such bouts of self doubt were rare before his time in Azkaban, but now seemed to be prevalent. Remus hoped that it too would soon fade away as time healed the other.

"He's James' kid, of course he'll like you. Quit worrying Padfoot." His tone was stern, but not unkind.

Sirius still looked unsure, his mind running over all the possibilities. What if the muggles had brainwashed Harry against them? He could believe it of them. Petunia had always held a grudge from when he'd given her a pair of donkey ears as a prank. Lily had spent the whole day trying to settle her down. "But I—"

What he would have said was cut off by the shriek that came from behind them. "YOU! What are you doing here?! Dudley get back in the car!"

Both Sirius and Remus jumped, and turned to face the irate woman. The look in her eyes was enough to make them both back up a step so that the door was practically at their backs. While she had obviously not inherited the same looks as her sister, she had certainly inherited the same temper.

She moved closer, and Sirius straightened his back. He wasn't going to let this shrew of a woman keep him from seeing his godson. A movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye and he turned his head, trying to, at the same time, pay attention the threat stalking forward. The attempted failed, as all he could see was the little boy with black hair and green eyes behind round glasses that had stopped just as soon as Sirius had caught sight of him.

He was so like James, but Lily was there, and Sirius felt for the first time since being released thought that he could somehow like the world he was living in. "Harry?" he asked, his voice soft as if afraid that he would disappear in the next moment. The child looked unsure and he looked several times between the three of them, before slowly nodding.

Sirius couldn't remember the next few moments, only that he moved forward faster than he had in a long time and had the small boy in his arms and embraced in a hug that he absentmindedly hoped wouldn't crush the boy. He could hear Remus and Petunia arguing with one another behind him, but couldn't find himself to care. If she didn't agree with them, Albus be damned, he wasn't going to give his godson up again.

Harry squirmed a bit, but otherwise seemed content to stay in the hug. Sirius didn't even know he was crying until the little boy pulled back enough to look up at him, big green eyes concerned.

"Why are you crying? Are you hurt?"

There was a lump in his throat that wouldn't budge and he couldn't get words past it, overwhelmed as he was, and so he shook his head. No, he wasn't hurt, and if there was any pain, it was the gentle ache in his heart at this reunion he had dreamed about while in his cell. He had kept hold of what might have happened and could happen if only he escaped, rather than bringing memories to the forefront where the Dementor's could feed upon them.

He had finally swallowed enough times that he felt he might be able to make some sort of conversation when Petunia ushered them inside. She appeared to be trying to hide the whale of a boy behind her, which Sirius found somewhat humorous before sending him upstairs to his room.

Sirius placed Harry in the middle of the couch and Remus and he sat down on either side of him. Remus, unlike Sirius, was meanwhile looking around the room, noticing not what was there, but what was missing. There were many pictures of the Dursley's son, and of Petunia and Vernon themselves, but none of little Harry. The whole thing bothered him, and something within him wanted to just grab Harry and leave this place. Perhaps some of it showed on his face, because Petunia's next question was in vein with his thoughts.

"Now." Petunia said decisively, "Why are you here? Here to take the boy away?"

Remus wished very much that that were the case, and he could see Harry staring at his aunt from the corner of his eye. "Unfortunately we can't. Dumbledore said you would know why." The look on Petunia's face made it clear that she did indeed know. Remus was quite sure the woman would have given Harry to an orphanage long ago, if not for the protection that came with him.

"Who are you?" Harry asked. The air seemed to still and everyone's attention switched to him. Remus let Sirius field the question, or rather he had no choice as he answered more quickly than him.

"I'm, well" Sirius started, and then gave a somewhat nervous laugh, "I'm your godfather.."

"Padfoot" Harry finished. Sirius for a moment, almost believed that Harry remembered him. That somehow he had retained some memory of the times he had been at the Potters', and if that were true maybe he remembered his parents as well. Remus on the other hand, was hoping that Harry knew the name because the Dursleys had told him something of his past, but soon came to the same realization that Sirius did as the other's smile dimmed a bit. Most likely Harry had heard them on the doorstep, and that was how he knew the name.

Sirius' smile returned. Perhaps Harry didn't know who they were now, but he would, and to Remus' chagrin he introduced him as well. "And he's your Uncle Moony."

The boy looked between them before saying slowly, "Moon and Padfoot." Remus could tell that he was trying to keep from giggling and he rolled his eyes with an exasperated smile and introduced them by their real names, which come to think of it probably weren't that much better from a muggle point of view. But he had heard plenty muggle names too, that were quite interesting.

Harry then introduced himself, showing that he really didn't know who they were, but he gave them such a smile, reminiscent of James own that made them grin in response.

Sirius remembered the day they had told them what they were naming him. Actually it was on the day of his birth. Lily and James had kept their decision from them, although Sirius had mentioned many times that his own name was the best choice. Remus and Lily had agreed that one Sirius was enough.

Obviously Petunia felt that this was enough, and that they should get down to the business of why they were really here. She sent Harry outside, and they watched as he reluctanty walked outside, throwing looks behind him that spoke of his insecurity. Remus tried to give him a reassuring smile, but even he wasn't sure how this would go. As the door shut behind the child, all attention was turned to the woman sitting so straight backed and primly in her chair.

The ensuing conversation became a heated argument, in which Sirius shouted, Remus growled, and Petunia's own worse were sharp and harmful. It all ended with Petunia telling them in no uncertain terms that they were to visit only on Tuesdays and that they would wait at the end of the drive, and were not to take one step closer. And if anyone were to ask they were workers sent in to deal with incorrigible youths.

It was with considerable effort that they didn't hex the woman, and instead walked outside to talk to Harry and tell him what would be happening. They sat there for a long time in the small yard, unworried about the grass stains and the dirt, and the sun that was turning their skin red, and told him about who they were to him, and who they were to his parents. Unfortunately they had to keep magic out of it, and so they were made to put into terms that would be understood by a child of five who knew nothing of it.

Which led to the password, one that the knew only the two of them were aware of, and the only other who did was now residing deep within Azkaban. It had take Harry quite a few times to say it correctly. Sometimes leaving out the 'm' and saying, solehly, or putting in an extra one stating 'solemnemnly'. Remus found it cute, but still corrected him patiently, until he was able to say it, though the words often ran together in his excitement.

The explained that if they were to ever say the wrong thing, or nothing at all, he was to run. And so it was no longer Saturday's that were counted, but all days that led up to Tuesday instead.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -

Alright, again sorry for the lateness. I have decided to reply to all responses on my livejournal. This way it doesn't take up so much space on here, and if you were not a reviewer than you don't have to read them if you don't like. Also I can tell you how close I am to posting the next chapter, and hopefully get more interactive responses. So go to: tm-stories./ (http(colon)(forward slash)(forward slash)tm-stories(dot)livejournal(dot)com(Forward slash) to read what I thought about this chapter, some possible story titles, and responses to reviews! Thanks!


	3. The Black Pendant

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good

A Birthday Wish (working title)

Part 2: The Black Pendent

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good!" the shout was followed by a pause only small enough for the two men to say, "Mischief managed." Before he was upon them, throwing his arms around first his godfather and then, who he now called, his Uncle Moony.

He grinned up at them, eyes bright behind his glasses. "Where are we going today?" Harry had found that being with the two men was always fun and an adventure. He had day dreamed all day about what they might do.

"And what makes you think we're going anywhere?" Sirius asked, eyebrow raised and mouth set in a line, though they twitched at the corners, showing he was fighting a smile.

"You want to sit at the end of the drive?" Harry asked, giving him an incredulous look that only appeared adorable, rather than sarcastic.

"Good point."

"So…?"

"So what?"

"Sirius!" Having given up on getting a direct answer from him, he turned to Remus, "Remus, where are we going?"

A year and a half ago he would not have asked such a question. It took a while for him to get comfortable enough to ask, as any questions to the Dursley's were usually disregarded or caused them to treat him like an idiot, usually using that very word.

"I thought we'd take it easy today. How does ice cream in the park sound?" Remus asked, smiling down at him, but he looked tired as he sometimes did. Harry nodded enthusiastically. He enjoyed the park, liked to see how high he could swing, entertaining the idea that he might go over the top of the set.

Sometimes Sirius or Remus would push him, and often Sirius would swing with him, while Remus, the voice of reason, would tell them not to jump off mid swing. Not that they ever listened. And it was odd, but they never did get hurt. In fact the one time Harry had landed wrong, the ground had been quite soft. More so than even sand should be.

Today was no different. It was after Harry had finished his ice cream, that he broached a subject that had been bothering him for the last few weeks. It had taken quite a bit of time for him to work up his courage to mention it, wondering if he'd seem ungrateful of the time they already spent with him. "Sirius, Remus.. my birthday is next week." His voice was soft, and he avoided eye contact with either of them.

Last year they had given him gifts, but were unable to spend the day with them. This, of course, was more than enough for Harry, who had never really received anything substantial for this birthday, but still he couldn't help but wish that he could spend it with his godfather and Uncle Moony.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, before Sirius removed something from his pocket. The two had quite an argument over it, but Sirius, in true Sirius fashion had begged and conjoled until Remus had agreed with a weary sigh. The pendant, for a moment, was cool against his palm and the chain slid between his fingers. It was a Black heirloom, and unlike many of them was actually not a dark artifact. Yet, it was very powerful, and for this reason Remus had tried to forbid Sirius giving the necklace to Harry.

For most Blacks it was only a pretty bauble, nothing more. For other's it was much, much more. If the wizard or witch had enough magic, and their intentions were pure and heartfelt and weighed appropriate, a wish could be made. Often times, that wish was wasted, and other times it was regretted. For despite a wish being of pure intent, it could still end in a bad way. Once made, the necklace would not work again for the same person. Sirius was sure another necklace would work, but he had never heard of nor seen another like it, but then again it was a well kept secret within his own family, so why not in another's?

Sirius own wish had been made, the night he had run away from home. It was for this reason he probably escaped with all his memories and health intact. Sirius' parents did not take well to blood traitors, and in fact his were perhaps the worst of the Black clan in his humble opinion. He was sure they would have obliviated the family secrets from his mind, or perhaps would not have let him escape alive at all. He suspected they knew something like his running away would happen as the doors had been sealed shut, warded against him. He had felt like he was slowly going insane, the dimness of the house, and the House elf heads upon the wall weighing upon them as they had never done before.

As the eldest, he had been given the necklace, and in their anger they had conveniently (for Sirius) forgotten this fact. And so one night, when the shadows seemed to grow claws and teeth, he had gripped the pendant, shut his eyes tight and wished that he was somewhere safe, somewhere where he was wanted, and by some way he would never have to return to Grimmauld place against his will.

He had felt the pendant grow warm, then hot, almost to the point of unbearable, and then just as suddenly it had went cold, and when he opened his eyes he was outside the Potter's house, free. That same year, for some inexplicable reason his Uncle Alphard, who he had never spoken to, even at family functions, left his small fortune to him.

The only regret that Sirius had, and still had, was that he had not wished the same for his brother, and any time he had approached him that year with the necklace, Regulus would turn and walk the other way. Then when he had heard the whispers of Regulus becoming a death eater, he had stopped trying, unsure if the magic would work at all. When Regulus had died, and despite what his younger brother had done, he still felt regret.

Sirius was not sure if the necklace would work for anyone other than a Black, but he was willing to try, because he knew, just knew, something was not right at the Dursley house. He had not been around many children, but he didn't see many who flinched when touched unexpectedly or shied away from loud noises. Many were loud themselves, and were trying to assert their independence.

While Harry seemed independent in the ways of taking care of himself, moreso than he should, at first he had made no move to insert his opinions of where they would go and what they would do on their Tuesdays. He did not ask questions and would often speak only when spoken to. It had taken them the good part of two to three months before he had started to open up, mentioning things he liked without their prompting. It was their Christmas gift to him that had seemed to open him up the most, and yet at the same time to cause them to worry more.

They had spent months getting all the pictures together, copying photos out of the Hogwarts yearbook, owling past friends and acquaintances. It had been hard on them, bringing up memories of what they had lost, but had also helped them to move past their grief and anger. When presented with the photo book, Harry's eyes had welled up with tears and Sirius and Remus felt their own eyes a bit misty as he touched the spelled still photos gently. Then he had asked them if they would please hold on to it for him. Sirius had tried to get him to explain, but he had just shaken his head. Remus speculated that the book might go the same way the clothes they had bought Harry. It would just 'get lost' as Harry would say.

When last week Harry had shown up with bruises up and down his shins, and the excuse that he had tripped and fallen, when in truth it had been caused by Dudley's discovery of his father's smelting stick, had been the last straw. Sirius immediately after he had dropped him off, had turned his house upside down looking for the necklace. Yes, he could have just taken Harry away, but while Dumbledore was admittedly a great wizard, he seemed to be blinded as to what went on in that house, and he would probably track them down and remove the boy. He might even forbid Sirius and Remus from seeing him.

This thought had outraged him. He was Harry's Godfather, not Albus, and he would make sure that the Potter's child would be loved and cherished as he should, and if it took a wish to do that than so be it. It just bothered him that he had waited so long to do this, and so he felt a certain sense of relief when he held out his hand, and uncurled his fingers.

"Harry, this is an early birthday present… and I want you to listen very carefully to what I'm going to say…"

--

I am cutting it off there for a reason. Please go to my livejournal to see why. I'm not fishing for reviews, I promise, but it's been a long time since I've written, so I'd like some opinions, thank You! If I get no response, I suppose I'll carry on. Lol. Journal address is: http(colon)(forward slash)(forward slash)tm-stories(dot)livejournal(dot)com. If that doesn't work, go to my profile  Thanks again in advance!


	4. The Heart's Wish

A Birthday Wish (Title will be changed next chapter!)

The Heart's Wish

Harry sat in the darkness; the only light that of the moonlight glowing under the door. It was quite stifling in the cupboard under the stairs, but Harry didn't notice, he had become used to it. He couldn't help but play with the pendant his Godfather had given him. At first he wasn't sure what to make of it, since jewelry was such a girly thing, but Padfoot had assured him boys could wear jewelry too, and the necklace had been his since he was a little boy.

That had brightened Harry up considerably. Padfoot must care a lot for him to give him something that he'd owned for such a very long time. He didn't consider it to be like Dudley's cast offs, no, the pendant (that's what Moony called it) was bright and shiny and looked new.

His thumb ran over it. It was nice, he decided, and pretty in a boy way he assured himself. Little silver stars glittered from a backdrop of domed midnight blue. It was cool against his hand, the other hand rubbing at his eyes, red and swollen as they were from crying.

For some reason he had thought maybe, just maybe, Sirius and Remus would have given him a surprise visit. They had done it last year on his birthday. The Dursley's had spent much of the day taunting him over the fact that obviously the two men were too busy or didn't want to spend time with him. It had been all he could do to keep his hurt inside until he was safe in his cupboard.

If he had known that Sirius and Remus were even now preparing for his appearance, he might have felt better. His mind ran over what Sirius had told him in the park as he took a hiccupping breath. He was to make a wish on his birthday, Sirius said that the pendant would have to substitute for candles on a cake, and he was to hold it, close his eyes and wish real hard that he was living with him and Moony. Harry wasn't to think of anything else.

For Sirius to say aloud what Harry's wish had been for the last two years and to seem to want it too, did a lot to reassure him of his own self worth. He had turned the wording of his wish over and over in his head, skeptical, but still somehow believing that an adult could tell him the truth, and that something like magic could be real. He had after all turned the teacher's hair blue though he couldn't say how he did it, he knew it was him.

The Dursley's had thought so too and he'd been confined to his cupboard. Maybe this time would be different, and he wouldn't have to worry about the Dursleys' again.

Taking a deep breath he shut his eyes, clenching them tight, afraid that if they were to somehow open his wish wouldn't work. The pendant was held between his hands, the metal still cool. "I wish.. I wish…" and despite what Sirius had told him, he found himself thinking of other people too. Why couldn't he wish it? No, Sirius had told him what he should wish for, "I wish I were with Moony and Padfoot…" but he couldn't help the little whisper in his heart and in his mind that he wished he were with his mother and father too.

If only Harry had known that he needn't say his wish aloud, that it was what was in his heart that mattered, he might have concentrated a little more on thinking of only Moony and Padfoot. As it was, he did not, and the pendant turned hot, and though Harry wanted to drop it, he was unable to do so.

In the next moment he felt a cool breeze against his skin, a breeze that shouldn't by any means be present in his cupboard. And when he opened his eyes, it wasn't his Uncle Moony or his Godfather Padfoot, but instead a wolf, it's golden eyes intent upon him, as it hit the grass hard just feet in front of him, obviously having been leaping before, and teeth pulled back in a snarl of the likes that caused Harry to do what any other sensible just turned seven years old boy would do. Scream. Then scramble up and run the other way. It was a good plan, but one that failed as he ran into a black creature that was just as large, if not larger, causing him to fall backwards.

Harry's breath was coming in gasps now, and he felt as if he couldn't breath. Just as the world went black, he could have sworn he saw the shape of a man looming over him where once the black monster had been.

Sirius stood over the young boy with a look of confusion. "What the bloody hell is a kid doing out here?" he asked, unconcerned about Moony coming closer. The two had been out in the forest behind the Potter's home, romping as they did every full moon, when the boy just appeared in between them. Luckily Moony had noticed and stopped half way in his leap, although the look on his furry face had still been one that would understandably scare a kid. As loathe as he was to admit it, Sirius was thankful that Snivellus had come up with the wolfs bane potion. That he should be thankful for anything the greasy bastard had done was still a surprise and one that rankled.

It was Moony who moved him into action. The werewolf nudged him, and though it was Remus who was in control, Sirius understood his fear of getting too close. Bending down he picked the child up, marveling at how light he was, but then again he'd never had much interaction with children.

"Dumbledore or home?" he asked the werewolf. It was surely an odd occurrence that a child would just appear. There'd been no sound of apparation and nothing that could be termed a portkey. Was it some new development of the Voldemort's followers? Perhaps they had used this child as a guinea pig. He wouldn't have doubted it. Which begged the question of whether he should go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, or take him somewhere closer that would give him more immediate attention if he were hurt.

The small boy in his arms made a soft noise, and caused him to make his decision. "Potter's it is." Moony made an agreeable noise. There was always time to get to Hogwarts later. They could not apparate within it's walls, and would have to travel to Hogsmeade and walk their way up. Or ask Dumbledore to come through, but he rarely left Hogwarts unattended.

Moony walked closely beside him, alert to the creatures around them. Though the Potter's place was under fidelus, he still felt that it was unsafe. If a young boy could appear, why not a death eater? He scented no danger though, only the vaguely familiar scent of the child in Sirius' arms.

As always check my livejournal for responses to reviews and notes on the story.

ATTENTION: Both Title and summary will change with next chapter. Title will be: People We Should Never Meet. Summary is to come.


	5. A Most Vivid Dream

I don't like starting a chapter this way, and I won't take up much space. See my livejournal for notes on this chapter if you get confused as to certain events. I have tried to explain it to the best of my ability.

People We Should Never Meet

A Most Vivid Dream

Lily Potter often had dreams of holding her child. They were often so vivid that she would awaken still feeling the weight of him in her arms, his pudgy hands tangled in her hair, or soft breath against the side of her neck. She had only ever dreamed of him as a baby, but in the waking world she imagined what he might look like now.

Every time she saw the Weasleys and their youngest son, Ron, there was a painful stirring in her heart and thoughts of what if and what might have been. Her hand rested lightly on her stomach, remembering the feeling of it swollen with child. She then clenched her hand it into a fist at the thought of what, or more precisely who, had taken that away from her. Bellatrix Lestrange. Even the thought of that woman caused Lily to tense, memories of pain rippling through her. Behind her, her husband made a soft snoring noise and tightened his hold on her.

It had been before they had heard of the prophecy and finding the need to go under the fidelius. Times had still been dangerous, and they rarely went somewhere without the other.

Lily had been well along in her pregnancy and James had stepped out to discuss some matters with Dumbledore, which she would learn after that they had discussed the prophecy between them.

She'd been tending the garden, trying to work off the nervous energy and anxiety that plagued her, when she heard the crack of a twig being stepped on behind her. It was a noise that months ago would not have phased her, but now in the present situation she was in, Lily reacted. She had always been rather good at drawing her wand quickly and exceptionally good at spells. The first stupefy was deflected with a casting of protego and followed up with a hex of her own as she got a good look at her attacker.

She knew the woman, perhaps not in the sense that one knows a friend, but knew enough information about her to know that she was in terrible trouble. Lily knew from order meetings that Bellatrix favored the unforgivables, and disturbingly chose to use imperius and cruciatus until all fight had gone out of her victim and their mind lay broken, and even then she did not always use the avada kedavra. It was, after all, torture for the victim's family to find a mere shell of the person they so loved.

The woman had actually laughed as if she had heard something quite hilarious on the wizarding wireless, laughing as if she wasn't attempting to harm or kill another person. It had made Lily feel sick to her stomach. As Bellatrix began to explain in her own insane way the prophecy she had overheard in the Hog's Head, that Lily was to give birth to the child who would bring the downfall of her master. That she would not allow it.

In the meantime Lily's eyes had flickered to the door and back. If she could only make it there, and bar the door, perhaps she'd have enough time to floo or apparate out.

She had not made it to the door, had not been able to deflect the cruciatus and her screams had mingled with Bellatrix's laughter. Everything was painful, it was as if a thousand knives were stabbing her, peeling skin and muscle from bone, and then she felt another large pain and knew that although she had placed her arms around her middle, there would be no way to keep her unborn child safe.

Then there was a crash and a flash of red light, that she would later be told was Severus' doing, and the slicing pain eased, but did not disappear, and seemed to center elsewhere and she had known something was dreadfully wrong before she had passed out.

Lily buried her face into her pillow as she remembered when she had awoken in St. Mungo's to find that she had lost her child. At that moment, Lily had almost wished that Bellatrix had driven her crazy, because surely then she would not feel the pain burning in her chest that rivaled even the cruciatus.

Lily, after being released, was still weak, both in spirit and body. James had been little better, and a thick cloud of grief seemed to hover above them, one that not even the other Marauder's could break through. There were so many what ifs that swam about in Lily's mind. What if she had gone with James? What if James hadn't left? What if Severus had come sooner?

And then there had been other questions. How did Bellatrix know where they were? This answered was given in the disappearance of Peter Pettigrew and the testimony given by Bellatrix herself under the use of veritaserum. It had only heaped the feeling of betrayal on top of the grief and Lily had wondered if she, her husband, and their friends would ever recover.

With time, like all things, the wounds were healed to a certain degree. Lily felt as if she might never recover from it, and there were still some scars that seemed to bleed every now and then, like tonight when she awoke still feeling the warm weight of her child in her arms.

So caught up was she in her own reflections that she almost missed the sounds coming from downstairs. "James," she hissed, shaking the arm around her. Her husband muttered something and shifted closer, but did not awake. "James," she hissed louder, hearing sounds of hurried footsteps up the stairs.

"What?," he grumbled, eyes opening.

"There's someone coming up the stairs."

Although they had been placed under the fidelius charm, and Lily felt it was ironic that they should be so after the incident, it did not lessen their paranoia. James was awake in an instant, his hand reaching for his wand, the word stupify on his lips as someone burst into their room.

"James, Lily!" it was Sirius, and it took all of Lily's effort not to hex him right then and there for scaring her so.

"Padfoot! You could knock." James said, his voice showing his own displeasure, matching that of his wife's.

"Yeah, yeah.. listen.."

"What are you doing in here? Thought you were out with Moony." Lily asked, interrupting him. Sirius in return gave her a small glare.

"If you would let me finish," he said, giving a small huff, before continuing. "We found a boy in the forest."

"A boy?"

"In the forest?"

"Yes, well, actually he sort of appeared between Moony and me. Didn't know what to think about it. It wasn't apparition, and there was no portkey. Thought to take him to Dumbledore," he scratched his nose, "but he passed out and thought it might be better to bring him here first, in case something was wrong with him."

Lily and James exchanged a look, before pushing back their covers and getting out of bed at the same time.

As they went down the stairs and into the living room, they saw the werewolf standing a distance away from a small figure on the sofa, as if afraid of getting too close. James and Lily knew that although Remus was given the wolfsbane each full moon, he still had the fear of it suddenly not working. He gave a small whine as he saw them, the large tail beating against the floor in a few sweeps.

Lily moved swiftly, kneeling down next to the child, green eyes taking in the pinched features there, the pale skin, dark hair, and too large clothing. He looked so familiar, so much so that she felt as if she should know his name. James stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder as he bent down to peer into the child's face. His heart beat a bit quicker, and his fingers clenched the material of his wife's cotton shirt.

He recognized him, had seen it in pictures of himself as a young child. But James had no living relatives left, that he knew of. Was this a trick of the death eaters and Voldemort that was for the pure motive of torturing them. They knew they would not hurt children, so they sent a child in to gather information, wearing the face of someone who could be his son?

His hand was on his wand, and the words "finite incantatem" at his lips, when the child stirred and green eyes that so resembled Lily's opened, flickering in fear to their faces, and then away to Sirius and Moony. The boy sat up abruptly with an exclamation of, "It worked!" and his hand went to something around his neck, gripping it in a tight fist, before continuing. "Padfoot! It worked! Where's Moony?"

There was a look of blank shock on Sirius face, most likely mirrored by his friends. The boy took it to mean something else, and he quickly said, "I forgot! I'm sorry. I solemnly swear I'm up to no good!" And the shock deepened, and as silence continued, the dark haired green eyed child's exuberant look faded away into something akin to fear, green eyes glancing back to Lily and James.

"I..I so-solemnly swear I'm up to no good.." he repeated tremulously,

"What?" Sirius asked, his voice startled and loud. Obviously it was the wrong thing to say, because the figure on the couch was up and running toward the door. Sirius thought quickly, ran forward and grabbed the thin boy around his waist, causing him to kick and flail his arms amidst his screams for them to let him go.

"A little help here!" Sirius called, and James rushed forward to do so, Lily two steps behind him, and Remus watching from his corner, unable to do anything.

James mind was whirling, trying to digest all that had happened. He kept getting caught up on the familiar phrase, and on a hunch, said loudly as he tried to keep the surprisingly strong kicks from hitting him, "Mischief Managed!"

The flailing eased and then stopped. The boy's face was pale, his eyes wide darting between those he could see, and his breathing harsh, the thin chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Now," James said, looking at him, "who are you?"

"Don't you know?" the boy asked, fear still there, but confusion too. "I.. I wished like Padfoot said, and I didn't say it aloud, but it worked, and I'm not dead am I?" he spoke rapidly, his voice higher pitched and it seemed he was jumping from one conclusion to another.

Lily tried to give him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, though she was still confused. "No, you are not dead. Please, just tell us your name, and how you got here. Padfoot forgot to tell us we would be having a visitor." Sirius made a noise, but Lily gave him a look and he stayed silent.

The small boy looked at her, almost hungrily, his gaze running over her face as if trying to memorize it, before he nodded slightly and answered, "I'm Harry, your son, I guess you don't recognize me, I was just a baby, but I wished it. Padfoot told me too. Well, sort of. But you aren't angry are you?" his brow furrowed. "I did only say Padfoot and Moony."

"Lily," James said, his voice oddly even, "I think you should call for Albus."

Lily who had felt a cool wash of shock come over her, nodded, but could not make herself move. He was just as she had imagined. No, perhaps not. There were differences. The shape of his face was slightly different, the dark hair more messy than she would have thought, and the green eyes were a bit of a surprise. She had thought that perhaps they would look like James.

They had never told anyone what they were going to call their child. Wizarding superstition keeping them from doing so. Lily had laughed when Sirius had looked at her shocked when she had asked if he had a moment so that she could ask his opinion on some names. He'd asked her if she was mad, and that a name was a powerful thing and should only be given publicly after the child was born.

"Lily, now." James voice was commanding, as he kept a hold of the boy, no Harry.

She nodded, still dazed, and moved toward the fireplace, taking a pinch of green powder, wondering vaguely if this was another one of her vivid dreams in which she would wake from disappointed.


End file.
